Husband Fur Hire (Bears Fur Hire #1)(9)

Steeling herself, she tucked her loose hair behind her ears, gripped the handle for a moment to plaster a polite smile on her face, and opened the door. She jolted at the sight of the behemoth before her, and from the startled expression on his face, she’d surprised him just as badly. He was definitely not Mr. Daltry.

“Holy shit,” she murmured as she looked hungrily at the powerful legs encased in his jeans to a tapered waist and strong, wide shoulders pushing against the fabric of his blue sweater. He had the top button undone, and layers of muscle underneath led to a thick throat where his Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed hard. It was his face that held her frozen, though. Sure, a reddish beard covered his jaw, but at least he’d trimmed it recently, and looking past the scruff, any red-blooded woman could tell this man was a vision. Smooth, sun-tanned skin, and a straight, narrow, proud nose. A crop of sandy brown, messy hair covered his head, but it was his eyes that had her knees going wobbly. Piercing blue and hard to look away from. And now he was smiling. Kind of. He looked a little uncomfortable, but that was okay.

Elyse stepped outside onto the sagging porch and looked him up and down as she shuffled around him in a wide circle. She even kicked the back of his locked knees with her boot, but he didn’t wobble at all. Sturdy as a pine tree, this one. “You’re not even hideous to look at.”

“I beg your pardon?” the man asked, twisting around and following her with his gaze.

“You aren’t repulsive.”

He frowned. “Thank you?”

“It’s just, everyone else who answered my ad…you know…was missing most of their teeth.” And smelled, but not this one. She leaned forward and sniffed. Soap and animal. Nice. He could probably ride a horse, and chop wood like a demon, and had definitely read the part of her advertisement about good hygiene. Oh, and he was a big, muscle-bound brawny man. She gripped his bicep and gave an approving whistle when her hand wouldn’t reach around it by half. So firm. So big.

The man wore a troubled frown, so she quit poking him.

“Are you all right?”

“And caring. Nice touch. Do you hunt?”

His eyes narrowed, but he nodded once.

“Good aim?”

“With a rifle?”

She nodded and crossed her arms, waiting and trying her best not to look at those powerhouse legs again. She’d already established his back was strong enough.

“I’m a fair shot.”

“Good. And are you a self-entertaining sort of man?”

“You mean am I independent?”

She’d never seen a more confused look on a man’s face. Maybe he’d forgotten what the ad said, so she reached inside the doorway and picked up the paper, then handed it to him and pointed at the article.

She waited while he refreshed his memory.

His lips moved as he read, and then suddenly he reared back and his eyes went round. Oooh, such a pretty color, even if he was looking at her strangely right now. “Husband for hire?”

“That’s why you’re here, right?”

“Why would you need to pay for a husband?”

“Not pay, per say. We would split the duties around my homestead as helpmates to begin with, and after a week or two, we can marry.” She nodded definitively.

“We can marry,” he repeated in an odd tone.

“Yes. And I won’t be trading money, more like a barter for you coming here to be the man of this house. I have cattle, and you’ll have a say in the running of this place and a safe cabin to live. I’m a loyal sort and will have your back. And…you’ll have me.”

His animated eyebrows jacked up. “You? You mean…”

Cheeks heating over the thought of sex with a titan like him, she cleared her throat and delved into more favorable conversation. “Were you born in Alaska?”

“Why?”

“Because I don’t want one of those mainlander men who think it’ll be fun to homestead for a few seasons, then leave me high and dry once they grow bored with it. This isn’t some Alaskan reality show, mister. I need someone to stick around for me.”

The man frowned down at a folded piece of white paper he held clutched in his hand. Slowly, he tucked it into his back pocket and said, “Let me see your freezer.”

“My freezer?” she asked, utterly baffled.

“Yes, woman. Let me see how much meat you have stocked up. I want to know your situation. This is some sort of interview, right?”

“Yes.”

“Well, doesn’t it seem fair that I interview you, too? Picking a mate—” The man shook his head and tried again. “Picking a spouse sure seems like a big enough deal that both parties should be agreeable, don’t you think?”

Huh. She licked her lip and thought on that. He was the first to ask her any questions back, besides the normal, “How many acres do you own?” and “Will I inherit the land if you die?”

Feeling vulnerable, and a little more than embarrassed, she twitched her head. “The freezer is this way.” She led him around the outside of her cabin to the back porch where she removed the padlock from her deep freeze and stood back.

The man cast her a quick glance before he opened the lid all the way. He locked his arms against the edges and stared down into the nearly empty depths, then wiped his beard against his shoulder, as if it was a habit he did when he wasn’t happy. “Is this your only freezer?”